


Spank It by Metro Station

by Holy_Leonards_After_Dark (Holy_Leonards)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Crack, Diamond City Radio, Electrocution, Far Harbor mention, Incest, M/M, Microphone Sodomy, Murder, Orgasm Denial, Scene Kids, Self Help Books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holy_Leonards/pseuds/Holy_Leonards_After_Dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Nate try to get Nick off by electrocution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spank It by Metro Station

 

“Dammit!”

 

Nick and the Sole Survivor had been dating for a month now, and only attempted sex twice. Once, the moment they met, and now.

 

Nate thought back fondly of their first encounter: Valentine pressed up against his desk, their hips rocking together. “I,” pant, “am,” pant, “looking,” pant pant, “for my son,” Nate had said.

 

Nick was unable to climax then, too.

 

“Sorry, kid,” the Synth pushed him away gently from the desk.

 

“Why, Nick?” Nate really had some blue balls.

 

“I told you when we first met, remember? If you wanna get with me, there's something you gotta know: I can't knock a bitch up, because I can't blow my load.”

 

“Yeah, Nick I rememb-”

 

“I can't blow my load. I can't, I can't blow my load. I can't knock a bitch up, because I can't blow my load.”

 

“Is there anything I'm doing, or is this just robo-old age.”

 

Nick shot him a look. “I was never able to climax.”

 

“Do you have that not-so-fresh feeling?”

 

“This really bums me out.”

 

A man in a suit stepped out from the shadows. “Nick Valentine, synthetic man, with a synthetic cock-a-roonie. A man unable to cum. A difficult position, for a man so incredibly handsome. Like, oh God! Look at him. Love me, Nick!” He cleared his throat, and lit a cigarette. “He just might learn how to release in the Twat Zone.”

 

“You!” Nick pointed. “Why are you narrating my life?” He plucked the cigarette from the tiny man's tiny, tiny hands, and placed it in his mouth.

 

Rod Serling began again. “Nick is a twat in The Twat Zone.”

 

“Alright, get the heel outta here,” Nate said, shooing the little man out the door. There, stood all the other little men: Shostakovitch, Stalin, and some other short Russian.

 

 

“Back to the problem at hand(y), Nick. We need to get you cummin'.”

 

“I've gone a century without an orgasm. I'm fine.”

 

Nate knew Nick was lying, he saw it behind those sad, sad robot eyes. Orgasms were literally the only good thing in life, especially in a post-apocalyptic Wasteland.

 

Then, an idea struck him, like a hit of Jet, or a pan to the head. “Wait, Nick. Your brother's rubbing tubes with Faraday. Plus, like, look how calm and happy he is. He must know how to achieve the only good thing life has to offer.”

 

Ellie shook her head. She'd been sitting at the desk for 20 minutes. She liked to watch. “You two know Nick and DiMA don't have dicks.”

 

“I don't like to think of my brother's dick too much,” Nick lied. He loved thinking about it. How he kept it covered. What a shy robot.

 

DiMA. DiM. Di. Dic. Dick.

 

“Then, Ellie, what's in my hand?”

 

“Oh!” Ellie turned red. “that is... a penis.”

 

“Ya liking it? Do you smell the odor from his dick waft in to your nose?” Nate said. He fantasied about Nick's sibling for a moment. “This ain't bang bus, but(t) I love doubledongs.”

 

Nick smacked him. “Don't you ever say that at me again!”

 

Ellie, still red faced, added, “You two can't go all the way to Acadia for some sex advice.”

 

“We don't have to,” Nate said, “He wrote a book.” The man pulled the literature out of his pocket. It was as thick as a phone book (remember those?). The title: _How to Achieve Your Goals, Make Friends, and then Cum on Their Faces_

 

“Damn! That sexbot's been getting it good!”

 

Nate skimmed through the literature. “Didn't need to know that about Faraday.” He read the chapter titles aloud, “Robot Virginity? Machine Munching? Birth Control Patches?”

 

“Like regular birth control?”

 

“Way to other me, Ellie.”

 

Nate skimmed the chapter. “No, like that thing Bethesda does terribly.”

 

“He sounds wise.”

 

Nate found the answer. “There!” Nate pointed to the paragraph, “It says we need to electrocute Nick.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick said, desperation coloring his voice.

 

“But what could give us that much electricity?”

 

The three all thought deeply.

 

“Bingo!” they said in unison. “The Diamond City Radio station.”

 

The man and the metal man headed out, power walking over to hijack the love shack Travis had no idea he was in.

 

They banged on the door. “Travis, get out here!”

 

A timid cutie opened the door.

 

“Wh-What do you two want. I, um, not that you're unwelcome.”

 

“Takahashi says he loves you.”

 

At that, the pathetic man's eyes turned into hearts. You know like in the cartoons. “Wow, um, r-really? You two aren't playing a joke on me.”

 

“Would a detective lie?”

 

“Probably,” Travis answered. He ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I'm going to go ask Takahashi if what you two says is true. Not that I think you're lying. Or anything. Heh.”

 

“Alright, Buh-bye now,” Nate said, pushing Travis along.

 

Nick and Nate watched the other man walk away, then ran inside.

 

“You have any idea how this stuff works?” Nick asked, his rusty jaw clicked and made unpleasant scraping sounds as he spoke.

 

“No, but I can try.”

 

Nate pressed a button. Any button.

 

Let's drop!

Yeah, come on

Shake Shake

I'll take you home

If you don't leave me at the front door

“Oh...” Nate stared dumbly at the lights and buttons. “I haven't heard this song since I was an angsty pre-teen.”

 

“This song doesn't sound angsty,” Nick replied.

 

“You don't understand, Nick. You don't understand.”

 

“No, I don't.”

 

Nate smiled, “Wanna know the real meaning of Emo Cooter?”

 

“Wha???” Nick was dumbfounded. As in, tried in court and found dumb.

 

Nate pressed their bodies together. “Third time's the charm.” Their lips met, their bodies leaning into the electrical equipment. Nick reaches back for purchase, digging a skeletal finger into the controls.

 

The current fills the room with blue light.

 

“Oh, God,” Nick groaned, fingering the expensive radio equipment harder, better, faster, stronger.

 

“Nick, turn around. I want to try this.”

 

Nick's eyes flutter open. Or flash on. Whatever. He sees what's in Nate's Hand, a microphone.

 

Nick helped Nate unfasten their clothes, then strip.

 

“God, Nick, you're beautiful.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No.”

 

A single tear rolled down his face.

 

“I don't have any lube.” Nate confessed. He eyed the mic for a moment, then spat on it.

 

“That outta do it,” Nick said, bending over.

 

“Here comes the chu-chu train.”

 

The microphone was thick and microphoney. The grooves and stuff felt awesome. “Nate, I won't last long if you keep that up,” Nick warned.

 

What they didn't know: their sex was being broadcast throughout the Commonwealth (And Far Harbor too, apparently. But then again, Far Harbor also gets the Boston Bugle for some reason.)

 

From the Dugout Inn, Vadim looked horrified at the radio. He turned to his much less attractive – but still bangable brother. “I've decided. Travis, we kill him. For real.” Whats-his-face nods.

 

Nick and Nate were having some crazy sex. Wild sex sex. The sounds of moans and microphones in buttholes, accompanied by. “Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake it” filled the radio waves, affecting every radio in the world. That's right, everyone picked up Diamond City Radio.

 

The microphone was removed, and Nick was turned around. Nate grabbed Nick's dick. “Now, if I touch you like this, will you touch me right back?”

 

“Please, stop with this song.”

 

“No! Never!”

 

Nick sighed, defeated, wrapping his fleshy hand around the other man's penis. The nastiest penis in the Commonwealth.

 

Nate started moving his hand. “Now, if I move it like this, will you move it like that?”

 

“Fine, fine,” Nick said, mimicking the loser's movements.

 

“Come on!” Nate ground out through clenched teeth, “Spank, spank, spank, spank, spank it!”

 

With that, they both reached orgasm.

 

After their bang, they heard a bang. That's right, Travis ate it. A bullet, I mean.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Well, Nate, we just had an orgasm.”

 

“No. That bang.”

 

“Orgasm.”

 

“No! The gunshot, you robotic fool!”

 

They ran outside to investigate. There was an angry mob surrounding Takahashi's stand.

 

“That oughtta stop that comrade from assaulting our ears, comrade.”

 

Vadim gave his sexeh bro a smooch and they headed back to the Dugout Inn, clenching each other's butts.

 

The two detectives ran over to see the damage.

 

There was Travis, dead on the ground. A smoking gun was in...Takahashi's hand!

 

“Takahashi, how could you!”, they both said in unison.

 

Takahashi doesn't say anything. Neither does anyone else. Everyone just left including our sexy pals.

 

The dynamic duo continued to try even bigger pieces of electrical equipment to get Nick off. They stopped when it actually did get him off. I mean kill, ya know. They tried it on the Institute's power system and ended blowing up half of the Commonwealth. Not only that, but Nate had to listen to Preston's speech about how he killed so many people for the rest of his life.

 


End file.
